


In My Study

by saltandlimes



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BUT NO MCD, Decapitation, Hux is Not Nice, I promise, M/M, Putrefaction, also very off, but also totally gross, strangely fluffy, they are both fine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7478787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux has finally decided to let Kylo into his quarters. He's more relaxed there than he has ever been around Kylo, and Kylo loves it. Until he finds out what Hux is hiding in his study, that is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OH MAN. I refuse to write MCD. So this is what y'all are getting for a decapitation fill for the [kylux 33 days of guro](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/post/147223172646/33-days-of-guro-kylux-challenge) challenge.
> 
> Art by [@artyaouter](http://artyaouter.tumblr.com/)

Hux's quarters look just as Kylo imagined them. Clean. Sparse. The front room has a long, low couch, an armchair, a desk in one corner. Kylo takes a second glance. A desk? If Hux's quarters are anything like his, he should have two more rooms, a study and a bedchamber. Why the desk in here?

The question disappears, though, when Hux wraps a narrow hand around the back of his helmet, pulls it off as soon as the seals detach. And then Hux's mouth is on his, biting at his lips, pulling him close, plastering them together. Kylo wraps his arms around Hux's waist, greatcoat falling from his shoulders to pool on the floor. Licks into Hux's mouth to suck hard at his tongue.

“You don't know how long I've wanted to do this.” Hux has pulled back just far enough to breathe the words across Kylo's lips. Kylo laughs.

“What, fuck in your room, not mine?” Hux scrunches up his nose, distaste marring his delicate face. “You could have just told me you wanted to.” Hux shakes his head at that, but doesn't respond. Instead he tugs Kylo towards the door leading out of the living area, the door that must lead to his bedroom. And Kylo follows, almost tripping over his robes in haste. 

When he finally makes it inside, Hux has already stripped down to his thin boxers, undershirt that looks worn, old. Kylo's mouth waters. Even after all these months, almost a year now, his breath hitches just looking at Hux. He wants to press his face against that soft stomach, nose along to hips as sharp as daggers. Wants to lick nonsense patterns across Hux's dick, feel Hux's hands fist in his hair, yanking his head back so hard it hurts. 

He doesn't think he's ever undressed as fast before in his life. 

Even so, he catches glimpses of the room as he pulls off his robes. Just as bare as the entrance, the living quarters. A large bed in one corner, a wardrobe against a wall. A nightstand with a single glass on it and Hux's silver cigarette case sitting next to a clear ashtray, half filled. The room is empty. He wonders how Hux stands it, this blankness that seems to pervade every part of his life that is not with Kylo. 

Then his robes are off, and he stops worry about anything like that. Because Hux is laid out on the bed, one hand stroking himself inside his boxers, lip caught between his teeth. Eyes fixed on Kylo. A growl rumbles up from somewhere deep near his spine, and he's at the side of the bed in a flash, wrenching Hux's hand away. He wants to touch, to keep. And he's climbing up on the bed, straddling Hux's hips, rolling his down to slide his cock, naked, along Hux's still covered one. 

It's then that he notices the smell.

Or thinks he does. But it's a fleeting whiff of something, a strange rankness that slides beyond notice in a moment. Especially with Hux starting to breathe hard beneath him, reaching up to pull him into another frantic kiss. 

“Kylo. Ah...” Hux sighs against his mouth, tangles searching fingers in his hair. “So beautiful. That chin. Those cheekbones. Your face is so beautiful.” Kylo blushes. Hux isn't usually so vocal. Or so complimentary. 

“Am I embarrassing you, Kylo? I should do this more often. You're so lovely when you blush.” There's not an ounce of mocking in Hux's voice. Kylo buries his face in Hux's shoulder, bites down at the place that always makes Hux writhe underneath him, hopes that Hux will stop talking. And, thank the Force, he does. Instead he moans, long, wanton. And Hux is usually rather quite when they fuck, but something about being here, about being in his own quarters, it seems to have tripped a switch, let out all the little parts of himself that Hux wants to keep hidden. 

Kylo likes it. 

Hux is pushing a knee against Kylo's side, clearly trying to roll them over, and Kylo decides to be generous, lets them tumble across the mattress until Hux is on top, straddling him now. It gives him a chance to clamp huge hands down on Hux's ass, to roll their hips together. Hux groans, rips off his undershirt. Then he's got a hand on the side of Kylo's face, is rubbing his thumb over Kylo's cheekbone, as Kylo's fingers side beneath the waistband of his boxers, teasing, searching. Then he's struggling out of them, and they're both naked, hard cocks rubbing against one another at Hux cradles Kylo's face. 

“I want to ride you. Will you let me do that, Kylo? Will you put those fingers in me, open me up so I can fuck myself on your dick?” Kylo gasps, feels his fingers tighten convulsively on Hux's ass. And Hux laughs, a little breathless. 

“Do you like me talking, Kylo? Want me to whisper sweet dirty nothings in your ears, rub my cheek against yours?” Kylo can only pant, nod, watch as Hux leans forward and grabs the jar of lube. And then Hux is prying a hand of his ass – Kylo doesn't really want to let go, but he supposes Hux has the right of things – and sliding slick fingers over Kylo's hand coating it as he wraps his other hand around Kylo's cock. 

And it feels so good, and he's reaching around, sliding slick fingers to pet over Hux's hole. And he always loves this part, how red Hux's face gets, how he pants around Kylo's fingers. But usually, usually he bites a lip when he can, stops his whimpers from filling the air. Not this time, though, and Kylo bats Hux's hand away from his cock just so he can focus on the incredible sounds Hux is making. They're sweet and good, and he can't believe he's never heard them before. 

They're never going to fuck anywhere but Hux's room. 

He's decided it. He needs this, needs how desperate Hux seems, how much Hux has let go. And he watches as Hux squeezes his eyes shut, lets out a needy gasp as Kylo works a second finger inside him. And he's clenching around Kylo's fingers, slowing relaxing as Kylo strokes his other hand down Hux's side, feeling at the soft curve of his waist, the hollowness of his chest. He's beautiful. 

And he's still got a hand cupped around Kylo's face, trembling fingers tracing the outline of Kylo's jawbone. Nails scrabbling a little when Kylo fits a third finger inside him. Pushing back against Kylo's hand now, legs splayed wide, rutting his cock a little against Kylo's stomach. 

“I'm ready, I'm ready. Fuck. I'm going to ride you, Kylo. Get your fucking fingers out of me.” And his voice is breathy, a whisper of need. 

And then Kylo's clenching his newly freed hand in the sheets as Hux sinks down on his cock. And he takes a deep gasping breath. (The smell is still there, but it's distant, eaten up in the feel of Hux sliding down onto his cock.) And _fuck_ this is going to be over too fast, because Hux is moaning around him, hands on either side of Kylo's head, grinding his hips down around Kylo's cock. 

They move like that, Kylo trying to thrust upward, Hux smirking and keeping a slow, steady roll of his hips. And then he's fisting his own cock, grunting with each slid of his fingers over it. And Kylo gasps at the sight, at how beautiful Hux is like this, flushed, panting, cock up his ass, desperate. And it's too much, that picture, and he can feel his own hips start to stutter.

“Not yet, not yet. Just a little... ah... a little longer. Please, Kylo.” Hux moans, arches his back. And Kylo holds back, feels as though he's falling to pieces as he slows, waits. And then Hux is shaking around him, cock hardening and balls drawn up.

Kylo finally, finally relaxes when Hux comes, and it's like something has broken a dam, and his orgasm is flooding through him, too strong and not enough. And it's incredible.

***

“Can I show you something?” Hux's voice is lazy, calm as he rests his head on Kylo's chest. Calmer, Kylo thinks, than he's ever heard it before. And this wasn't how he imagined tonight ending. He'd thought it would go just as it always does, a few panting moments on their backs, and then one of them rolling out of bed, eyes averted, faces coloring. Somehow, he'd expected the same here. But it is different, just as everything is different here. Instead Hux has slid off him, arms folding around Kylo's chest, pulling him closer. And now his hand is warm as it traces nonsense patters over Kylo's chest, breath a soft hush on Kylo's skin. He slides an absent hand through Hux's hair, damp with sweat. 

“Of course.” And he feels Hux smile against his skin, arms tightening fleetingly around him. 

“We're going to have to get up.” Kylo sighs. 

“Then I definitely don't want to see.” There's a soft clout to his head and Hux sits up, glares down at him before Kylo breaks out in little giggles. Then he sits up as well, wraps his arms around Hux. 

“So where is this thing you want me to see?” He feels strangely light, happy in an new, sparking way that he can't ever remember feeling before. Hux is stiff in his arms for a second, then relaxes as he points to the door to the study. 

“Through there.” And he's pulling away, grabbing his discarded boxers and slipping them on. And then he's padding across the floor, beckoning Kylo to follow. And Kylo notices that he can see a thin streak of come down Hux's leg, dry now and filthy wrong, and it makes him smile. Then he's rolling out of bed, grabbing his own underclothes. 

The smell seems stronger over here. 

And Kylo wonders what it is. It's an strange smell, on the edge of being putrid, out of place in Hux's spotless quarters. 

Then Hux puts his finger to the reader – and why does he have one on his study door – and steps inside, beckons Kylo to follow. 

For a moment, Kylo isn't sure what's going on. He closes his eyes, squeezes them together as if, when he opens them, it will all be gone. He gags, eyes still closed. Hears Hux telling him to come all the way inside. Takes a step forward. Another. Opens his eyes. 

It's still there. 

The room looks like an abattoir might, if there was ever a butcher who decided that heads were the only valuable parts of his work. And then left his work to rot. And perhaps had less than perfect skill with a cleaver. 

Kylo can't help but notice tiny details, things that jump out from the mass around them. The floor where they're standing is a little raised above the level of the rest of the room, and Kylo's glad of it. Because the rest of the room is covered in slick, in a viscous mess that's brown orange, and far too thick to be water. Slime, ichor that's dripped from decaying faces, slowly melting eyes. 

A skull in the corner must have been there for a long time, white-brown and staring at him. Maybe as long as Hux has been in command of Finalizer. 

Another against a wall is still marbled, hairless but not yet black with decay, not a stinking mass of flesh sloughing off bone. Newer, obviously, than the rest. Blisters, huge and sagging, they stretch across the face that grins up at him. There's a soft plunk-plunk as something drips down from one of the eye-sockets. 

Most of them are past that point though, blackened flesh jellied and oozing. 

Suddenly, so surprising that Kylo starts, Hux's hands slide around his stomach, wrap tight as he plasters himself to Kylo's back. And his voice is soft against the shell of Kylo's ear, whispers fluttering into the skin of Kylo neck. 

“It's so beautiful, Kylo.” He has to stop himself from cringing away as Hux bites a kiss into his jaw. “You know, I've never shown anyone this before. Never. You're the first. The only.” Kylo gasps, then gags again, retching. The smell is so strong he thinks it might be a physical thing, every horror he's ever imagined rolled into one, into the scent of death and decay. The dankest midden heap and the oldest, filthiest, trash dump all at one time. 

“Hux, _what is this?_ ” He manages, once he can speak without feeling as though he'll throw up if he opens his mouth. Hux's hands tighten on him, chest puffing out.

“Where I go to relax. Do you like it?” His voice is almost childlike, eager. And Kylo... can't. He can't break Hux's heart, can't tell him what he really thinks, what he feels every time he glances over, sees the severed spine still attached to a head that rests against one wall, the soft curve where muscle must have been before it started to rot away. The way that some of one side of the face has slumped over, peeling away from muscle that anchored skin to bone, a twisted facsimile of a smile pulled out on lips that look as though they're made of pudding, would wobble and dissolve at the slightest touch. So he turns his head just enough to press a soft kiss into Hux's temple. Tries not to breathe too deeply. 

Wiggles his toes. 

Feels slick underneath them. 

Looks down, sees himself standing in a puddle, small chunks of skin, hair not quite completely dissolved, rust colored filth lapping at the arch of one foot. 

Retches again.

Breathes shallowly, can't let himself gag on the stench another time. And Hux seems fine, is still nuzzling at the corner of Kylo's jaw, but Kylo can see the hope sharp in his eyes. 

“It's incredible,” and he's not even lying. “How... where did this all come from?” Why did they all die, he wants to ask. But Hux has killed billions. It's probably the wrong thing to wonder about. 

Hux laughs, licks a line up the side of Kylo's throat to bite at his earlobe. And Kylo can't help the shiver that runs through him, is so conditioned to Hux's touch that even the roiling turn of his stomach can't make Hux's mouth feel any less good. 

“Here and there. Whoever looks like a good fit for the collection.” And his fingers are tracing over Kylo's abs now, and Kylo's horribly, terribly aware that he's wearing almost nothing, that Hux is plastered to his back in skimpy shorts. And that a gaping dead face, bug eyes and protruding tongue black and green and purple in death, it's staring at him. 

And that Hux is almost giddy behind him. 

“I knew you'd like it.” Searching lips press to the back of his neck, to the side of his cheek. “Oh, Kylo. You're so perfect in here. You have the most beautiful face.” He stumbles away from Hux, farther into the room. And something of his horror must show in his eyes, for Hux laughs, bright, carefree in a way Kylo has never heard before. 

“Don't worry so much, Kylo. I want to enjoy the collection with you. I can't do that if you're part of it, can I?” And Kylo breathes out a long sigh. Sincerity. He can hear it in Hux voice. And Hux is coming up to him, they're farther in the room now, rotting flesh and putrid scummy pools surrounding them. And Hux reaches up and pulls him into a kiss, sweet and clear and light. 

“I knew you'd like it.”


	2. A Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little extra for the "covered eyes" day of the challenge.

“Close your eyes.” Hux’s voice is a soft whisper, a murmur against Kylo’s cheek as Kylo kneels in the middle of the room. And Kylo can’t help the hitch in his breath, the way his stomach clenches as Hux trails soft fingers across the back of his neck.

The tug of the blindfold, the feel of Hux’s fingers in his hair as he pulls the knot tight, it sets him breathing faster, wondering. And he can’t believe they’re back here, can’t believe that he’s agreed even to set foot in Hux’s quarters again. And yet, he can. He has.

Because even if thinking of Hux’s study makes him shudder, makes him want to run, hide in his shuttle, fly back to Snoke – _do you know what your General is doing?_ \- he won’t. He can’t. Because of Hux’s smile, his giddy grin. The way he licks softly over the shell of Kylo’s ear, bites at the lobe. The way he say _beautiful_ in that hushed voice, full of awe and wonder. The way he holds Kylo tight at night, as though letting go will be letting go of the world.

And so he’s kneeling here – _I have a present for you_ – at Hux’s mercy, wondering if this is the moment, the time when Hux will lose control, run a knife through his throat, take forever what is already his. No matter how many times Hux promises, licking across his skin – _I want to share everything with you, I want you, all of you_ – it’s hard to believe.

Yet he comes back here. Cradles Hux to him, breathes through it as Hux grinds their hips together, smiles down at Hux as they kiss in that room that he wishes he could pretend was just a fevered dream. He lets Hux tug a blindfold around his eyes, listens as Hux thumbs open the lock on that room.

Hux’s footsteps sound loud as he comes back, a pitter-patter on the floor after him. Kylo’s stomach clenches. And then there’s a wet squelch in front of him, a thunk as Hux sets something on the floor. Sticky hands wrap around his bare torso, hug him from behind, Hux plastered to his back, kneeling too. The blindfold comes off.

“Do you like it?” Kylo’s stomach twists. _It._

“How did you pick it?” He chokes out, staring down – _you have to look at them, Kylo, have to see how beautiful they are_ – fixing his eyes on the curve of hair, the staring, fixed eyes.

“He’s the one you wanted transferred. ‘Utterly incompetent’ you called him.” Kylo nods. He remembers. “I transferred him for you.” Hux licks a long line down the side of Kylo’s neck, rubs a dead man’s blood across Kylo’s stomach. And Kylo sighs, turns into Hux’s mouth, kisses him. If this is what he has, it is enough.


	3. Beyond Repair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux has a project, Ren is suitably impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want more of Hux and his room of heads? Wander over to see him play with a new Kylo in [_Sweetheart_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7525996)

“What are you _doing,_ Hux?” Kylo’s standing in the doorway to Hux’s study, one step outside, staring in. And he’s not sure he even wants the answer to his question. Hux has rearranged. The floor still has its raised platform, the mattress still huddles in the corner – _Kylo’s eyes skitter over it, if he doesn’t see, it isn’t there_ – and the room still stinks, rotting death oozing out from every corner.

But Hux has a table in the center. It’s metal, the sort of think Kylo thinks he’s seen in the medbay. Oddly clinical here, of all places, with the stench of decay thick in the air. And there’s a rolling cart next to it, bottles and a huge machine crouched on it.

Hux is bent over something on the table, but when Kylo opens the door, keyed to his fingerprint now – _so you can come in whenever you want_ – Hux turns, smiles over at him.

“Kylo! I’ve had an idea!” And then Kylo can see what he’s bent over, can see the slow drip, drip of the stump of a neck. A body. Another body. He wants to scream. But instead, instead he walks forward, picks his way around the puddles on the floor, nuzzles his face into Hux’s neck.

“Tell me about it?” Hux smiles to him, starts to reach around, but Kylo dances backwards. Hux’s hands are filthy. Hux pouts for a second, but then lights up again, grin huge across his face.

“You know how we always have these extra leftovers?” He waves a hand vaguely behind him. “I was asleep earlier and as I woke up I thought, I wish we could do something productive with them. It’s just so terribly wasteful otherwise” And he sounds like he’s talking about a console, a shipment of parts, a new recipe for the commissary.

“Well, I thought, what if I could turn them into something we actually need?” And Kylo’s intrigued in spite of himself. Fascinated by what Hux’s mind, with its strange convoluted twists and turns, will make of this problem. Of the bodies that his hobby produces. Fascinated by Hux, who is so pristine, controlled, brilliant when he stands on the bridge of Finalizer, but comes back here to sleep (tries to hide it but Kylo knows) sleep in a room filthy with rotting corpses, on a mattress stained with come and pus.

“I think I’ve almost got it, too. Look at this.” And he pulls a datapad off the table, taps at the screen. The body… the body _jerks_. Twitches on the table, convulses, arches its back up, bloody stump thumping against the table. Arms move, raise, lower. Hands grasp at the table. For a moment, a single instant, it seems alive.

“Hux…” He breathes. Because this, this is incredible. This is something new, and strange, and beautiful. Hux taps on the datapad again, and the body relaxes, falls quiescent down to the table, fingers unclenching, back unbending. Dead, yet again.

But Kylo knows. He has seen. And he’s on Hux in an instant, needs to feel, press himself closer, shove and lick and feel his way into genius, into brilliance.

Hux’s mouth is hot on his, a purr rising in his throat as Kylo pushes him backward, bites at his mouth. And then Hux’s hands are coming up to tug him closer. This time Kylo doesn’t push them away.

No, this time, he needs more. Tugs at Hux, thinks for a moment about picking him up, setting him to sit on the table. But he doesn’t want to break something, doesn’t want to ruin this incredible thing his Hux has done. Because it is magic, more wonderful than anything Snoke has ever whispered in his ear, and Hux, Hux, who is twisted and broken, has make something beautiful.

He pulls Hux closer instead, maneuvers them around that table, with its miracle, pushes him backward. And Kylo’s never fucked Hux in here, never pressed him to that mattress, with all its horrors. But now, now it’s different. And he can’t leave, not when Hux has made this, done this.

So he lets them fall backward. And they’re pressed together, Hux fisting gloved hands in his hair, the smell of stale blood in his nose. But then he’s burying his face in Hux’s collarbone, licking, biting. Pulling back to whisper in Hux’s ear.

“Incredible. You’re amazing, Hux. You’re…” Kylo stutters a little as he tries to find the words. Hux, with his technological terror, is so close to things even Darth Vader only dreamed of. Hux, who is all his, who is bent and broken in more ways than Kylo could ever hope to fix, has made a dead man move, make a body bend and flex. And even if he never gets farther, never makes that man get up off the table and walk, it is enough.

Hux moans into him, whimpers as Kylo tugs an earlobe in between his teeth. And he’s pulling his gloves off, running naked hands through Kylo’s hair, slipping searching, sticky fingers underneath Kylo’s collar to tremble against the nape of Kylo’s neck.

“You like it?” His voice is breathless, his legs played wide to cradle Kylo between them. Kylo smiles into the bit of Hux’s jaw he’s biting at.

“Of course I do. Hux… it’s brilliant. You’re brilliant. I’ve never seen anything like this. I’ve never heard of anything like this. It’s almost like magic. You…” And then is mouth is on Hux’s, and he’s tugging open Hux’s trousers, shoving down his own leggings.

The first rub of their dicks together feels like snowflakes fluttering down, ice piercing him in a thousand cuts, sparks trembling where they burn like coals in his skin. And Hux is already panting, a whine in his throat, fingers grasping at Kylo’s back.

And if Kylo though Hux was responsive in his bedroom… Here, here Hux is on fire.

“More. Kylo, more,” Hux begs. And Kylo shoves the fingers of his free hand into Hux’s mouth, deep, fills it up tight. Hux gasps, choking, and Kylo pushes deeper. Hux’s mouth is watering around them, tongue moving feebly in time to Kylo’s slow pulls at their dicks.

And then Kylo’s freeing his sloppy wet hand, reaching down. Hux jerks at the first press of his fingers, cock twitching. And Kylo can’t believe how close he is already, how much he needs Hux, how he knows he’s going to come like this, rutting against Hux with a single finger up the General’s ass, rolling on a mattress surrounded with filth and decay.

Then he works his finger against Hux’s prostate and Hux screams, fists his hands into the mattress, smears blood on the dirty cloth, cock jerking. Coming into Kylo’s waiting hand. And it’s just enough, the slick slide as Kylo strokes himself harder with Hux’s come. He’s biting into Hux’s collarbone, teeth sinking deep into that soft, pale skin. And then his come drips over his hand, splatters against Hux’s chest. Slides off to join Hux’s, to make a mess of this cesspool of a nest, in this room of horrors.

And he rolls off Hux, gathers Hux into his arms Strokes a hand across his face to thumb at his lips. To caress him. Cradles him closer. Because even if Hux is broken beyond repair, his shattered pieces are lovely.


	4. I'll Take Care of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spending a lot of time around decomposing bodies is bound to make Kylo sick eventually. Hux is there to help when it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trope of the day: Sickness
> 
> Gratuitous descriptions of vomit await.
> 
> Art by the marvelous [artyaouter](http://artyaourter.tumblr.com/)

Kylo's shivering when Hux comes back from his shift on the bridge. The blankets are piled high on Hux's bed, and Kylo is a sweating lump beneath them, his pale face just peaking out. The room smells stale, like old sweat and something far more sour. When Hux makes his way over to the bed, he can see why. 

There's a bucket next to it, and it's full up with sick, everything Kylo's eaten over the past few days in a sludgy mess, stinking. Hux sighs, smooths a hand across Kylo's forehead. It's hot, far too hot, but Kylo moans a little when Hux tries to pull back the blankets, cracks his eyes open. His lips are chapped, crusted a little on one side with what might be drool, and might be bile. Hux scrubs his thumb over the corner, wipes at them. 

“I'm going to get you more water, ok, Kylo?” He keeps his voice soft, a lilt of care. Kylo makes an indistinct huffing sound from where he's buried his face back in the pillow and Hux sighs. He feels terrible about Kylo getting sick. He heaves the bucket off the floor, heavy with Kylo's sick, sloshing slightly as it taps against his leg. For a moment he thinks about heading to the study, getting rid of the contents there. 

They'd spill out, pale pinks, yellows, delicate green mixing with the orange-brown of the puddles lying on the floor. They might not mix entirely, might not meld at first. Hux doesn't know what the difference in viscosity is, vomit and the leavings of a decomposed face, but he supposes there must be one. But they'd swirl together, his Kylo's stomach, his beauties. 

But... it might spoil the effect. His toys are perfect, after all. Carefully chosen, placed, cherished. And this, this is nothing more than an accident. A simple side effect of Kylo's poor immune system, of too much time spent in the study and not enough time spent getting Kylo acclimated to it. Hux can't help it. Now that he knows, knows what Kylo can be, could be, he wants to show him everything, teach him everything. Now that he knows that he can mold Kylo into something like him. 

And Kylo has come willingly enough, Hux guesses. Has spent long hours sitting on the mattress, Hux cradled between his legs, as Hux strokes a face, fingers over eyes, nose, melting tongue. Has buried his face in Hux's hair as Hux has described just how he chooses new toys, breathed in, licked lightly at the back of Hux's neck. 

Now, though, he's shaking in Hux's bed, fever high and burning through him. It seems wrong to let the wasted mass of his weakness mix with the stinking slick of Hux's carefully selected toys. And so Hux passes by the door to the study, makes his slow way into the kitchenette. There's a series of soft splats as he tips the bucket over in the garbage chute. A slither as the final chunks slide out down and away, food for the things that hide in the dark. 

Kylo's flipped on his other side when Hux makes his way back into the bedroom, shaking a little. And Hux just wants to gather him up, smooth away the pain and heat and leave comfort in its place. But first he has to get Kylo to drink something. 

“Hux...” Kylo moans at the press of the glass to his lips, but he drinks greedily when Hux tilts it upward a little. His throat works in long gulps as he sucks down half the glass, then coughs a little as Hux pulls it away, sets it on the small table next to the bed. He climbs up, settles himself against the headboard, sets his datapad next to him. 

“Ok, Kylo? I'm gonna stay here with you now. If you need anything, I'm here. Just ask me.” He strokes a hand through Kylo's soaked hair, smiles as Kylo struggles upward just enough to nuzzle his head into Hux's lap. “Don't worry, my love. I'll take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you want more of Hux and his cute head obsession? check out [this drabble](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/post/147730872491/plaything) to learn more about his favorite toy.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [@saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
